I've always over-thought things like this. It happens every time. Almost like, when you say a word too many times it looses its meaning. Except… how can you forget something so important?

He glanced at his watch, tilting it towards the faint light that came through the window in order to read the face. 8:46; it wasn't even late yet.

"Who?" A small voice piped up beside him.

Turning towards the bear beside him, Matthew smiled softly at Kumajiro, hiding the sadness of that word. Even his best friend…, who had been with him for such a long time, couldn't even remember who he was. "I'm Canada…"

Matthew's mid began to wander in the silence, when he was snapped back to reality by the sound of his front door opening loudly. He jumped slightly, and blinked his eyes when the light was turned on suddenly.

"Hey, don't you ever turn any lights on in this place?" Matthew caught sight of his brother as he walked past the doorway. He stopped, noticing Matthew, and turned towards him.

"Oh…no I do, I just had fallen asleep…"

Another figure slipped past Alfred into the room, and smiled at the Canadian. "Crazy Canada, jus' sitting in ze dark, non?"

"Hi Francis." Said Matthew, smiling at him politely in return. "Do you need me for somethi-"

Alfred cut him off, and pulled the nation up from his comfy position. "Come get drunk with us, Matthew!" He said cheerily, slinging his arm around the Canadian's shoulder. Kumajiro looked up at the three blonde nations before lying back down and ignoring them.

Matthew shied away from Alfred's arm a bit; he wasn't used to close contact with very many people. He was usually just ignored. About to decline America's 'offer', Matthew was just opening his mouth to say something, but Alfred seemed to know what he was going to say, and instead didn't bother waiting for an answer and started pulling him towards the door. "Come on, come on… you should feel honored to go drinking with a hero!"

"B-but-" Once again, his sentence was cut off halfway as he forced into slipping on a pair of shoes, and he only barely managed to lock the door before being dragged down the sidewalk towards the nearest bar.

"See Francis, I told you that I could convince him to come along with us!" Alfred smiled smugly over at the French man, still leaning his arm on Matthew's shoulder as they walked. Matthew didn't drink alcohol, but decided to go with them and make sure that they –mostly Alfred- didn't do anything too reckless after a few drinks.

"Ohohon… although it seems more like it was forced onto Matthieu."

"Nah…see; he's not running off." Alfred responded, looking down at the quiet Canadian. "Right Matthew? You want to go with us."

"Well-"

"See? The dude wants to come, he said so himself. What more proof could you want?" He stopped talking as they arrived at the bar, and he walked inside with France and Canada alongside him. Canada looked around nervously; he wasn't comfortable in places with a lot of people, especially if he didn't know anyone. He wished that at least Kumajiro was with him.

"You'll meet up with us later?" Alfred turned towards Francis, pausing in his dragging Matthew to the bar. The French man nodded.

"Oui-" Just then, a woman caught his eye, and Francis left Matthew and Alfred in pursuit of her. "Pourquoi bonjour ... pourrais-je vous offrir quelque chose à boire?" Matthew could see from the confused look on her face that she obviously didn't know a word of French, and tried to walk away from Francis in vain; he only followed her, becoming more determined.

Snapped out of his thoughts, Canada found himself being lead towards the bar. "Hey Matthew let's ignore him and go drink!"

The next thing Matthew knew, he was unlocking the door of his house with shaky hands. After five unsuccessful tries, he managed to fit the key into the door and turn the doorknob, then promptly collapsed into the hallway. Kumajiro peeked around the corner to see what had crashed, he ran over when he found it was only his owner. Matthew was standing up, gaining support from the wall.

"Oh... h-hey Kumakiko…" Matthew was obviously drunk, staggering through his house towards his bedroom. Alfred had convinced him to actually drink a bit, and although he only had a few drinks –not that he could recall exactly how many- he was the type of person to be easily intoxicated, hence his current situation of having everything disoriented as he attempted to find the right room. He eventually did find it, and fell over onto the bed. Pulling a pillow towards him and clutching it against him while laying his head on another, Matthew closed his eyes. After all he had been through (Getting taken out into a crowded building against his will, and putting up with 'hero' America) all he really wanted to do was sleep. He hoped he hadn't said anything stupid earlier, and was trying to recall any of his conversations when he fell asleep, his glasses sitting slightly crooked over his face.

Ah… I can't think straight. Why is everything so distorted? It must have been that alcohol… But for some reason…

I can't remember why I was so sad earlier.